


No Masters Or Kings

by romanticallyinept



Series: Incubus!Jesse [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blackwatch Era, Blow Jobs, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Incubus!Jesse, M/M, Self-Lubrication, Soul Bond, Young Jesse McCree, heaps and heaps of misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 06:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14587542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticallyinept/pseuds/romanticallyinept
Summary: “You ever fuckin’ bound an incubus before?”Gabriel shakes his head, a small aborted motion, but the womannods, and it’s just priceless. Jesse laughs again, earning himself a shake from Gabriel.“What’s so damn funny, kid?”When Jesse doesn’t answer immediately, Gabriel shakes him again, harder. Raising a hand, Jesse shakes his head, still chuckling. “Goddamn,” he says. “Ya might wanna think about what ya got yerself into,jefe.”





	No Masters Or Kings

Jesse is alone in the interrogation room, and he knows why.

With his glamour down, he knows he’s pretty terrifying. His form is still human, but the ashen skin and pointed fangs and long, curled tail are just _not_ human enough to rub people the wrong way. And that’s without them knowing what he is. But fuck it - he’s not going to put his glamour up just to make his captors comfortable.

He’s in the room for at least two hours before the door opens. A man walks in, and Jesse flashes his fangs, immediately recognizing him. They guy is still wearing his tac gear, which, coupled with the black beanie on his head, creates an interesting if not jarring picture. And he’s good looking, too, definitely the type that Jesse would go for if he was out hunting. But with his hands cuffed behind his back, there’s not much he can do other than snarl low in his throat while the guy who busted the gang he was using for cover takes the seat across from him.

“How old are you?”

The question isn’t what Jesse is expecting at all, and the unexpectedness is what makes him answer, “Nineteen,” before he really has time to think about it. But the honesty surprises the guy across from him, and _that_ makes sense. Incubi live for ages - that fact that he’s not pushing a century is probably surprising.

“Christ,” is the only response he gets, and then the guy tosses a folder onto the table. He flips it open and scrawls something on the first page, and Jesse has a suspicion that something is his age. It doesn’t _matter_ , though. That doesn’t change what he is, or what he does.

“I don’t think yer here ta find out whether I’m legal’r not,” Jesse drawls. Most of his easygoing swagger is feigned - he knows he’s headed for prison in the best case scenario. Worst case… a bullet between the eyes does exactly to an incubus what it does to a human.

The guy smirks at him, fucking _smirks_ , like somehow it’s all funny. “I’m here to make you an offer, kid, but not _that_ kind of offer.”

Jesse’s eyes dart up, searching the man’s face. An offer could mean good things for him, and Jesse doesn’t operate on anything other than what’s good for him. “I’m listenin’,” he says, and he does listen, very closely.

“You will sign a contract to work for my organization for an indefinite period of time. With pay, of course, in return for ignoring the crimes you committed both for Deadlock and against my squad.”

The words hang in the air between them. There’s a catch ( _indefinite period of time_ ) but still, it’s not prison. If anything, Jesse would be trading one gang out for another, and this one, at least, seemed to have good access to running water and decent tech.

“And yer ‘organization’ is gonna be all right with someone like me working for them?” Jesse asks, because he can’t _not_ poke and prod, just a little.

But the smirk on the guy’s face doesn’t waver. “Yeah. We’ve got a few extra… stipulations.”

* * *

“Gabriel, before you go…”

 _Gabriel_ stops dragging Jesse down the hall. The name fits him, Jesse thinks. Jesse’s glamour is back up, but the woman that flagged Gabriel down still flashes him a look. She’s wearing a lab coat, and her blond hair is tucked up into a ponytail high in her head. She’s cute - a potential option for the future, now that Jesse knows he’s going to be around for a while.

“Not now, Angie.”

Gabriel’s grip on his wrist tightens, and Jesse prepares himself to be dragged again, but the woman reached out to stop him with a hand on his arm. “I think the information is important, considering….”

Reyes turns and levels a look at the woman that even makes Jesse worry for her, a little bit. She looks unaffected, annoyed, even, but she lets go of his arm. “Fine,” she says, and with another uncertain glance at Jesse, turns on her heel and walks away.

“So, where are we going, _Gabriel?_ ” Jesse asks, the grin evident in his voice. As expected, it gets him an annoyed sound from the other man. 

“That’s Commander Reyes to you, kid.”

And that’s all he gets. Gabriel (Jesse refuses to think of him as Commander Reyes. Gabriel is sexier, anyway) doesn’t tell him where they’re going, but Jesse’s question is answered when he gets pulled through a door into some sort of lab.

Immediately, Jesse tenses. By “stipulations,” he’d thought that he’d have to sign a few more forms, promise to feed outside the base, something like that. But inside the lab there’s another woman, a red-head, and she’s not holding papers for him to sign. She’s holding an obsidian blade, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Jesse realizes exactly what Gabriel meant.

“You’re not fuckin’ binding me to anyone.”

Jesse goes to pull his arm away, but Gabriel’s grip is strong, doesn’t falter even when Jesse flashes fangs at him. He looks more pissed than afraid when he rounds on Jesse, eyes dark. “You think they’d let an incubus run around loose in a prison, either? Because if that’s what you’d rather try your luck with, be my guest.”

The worst part is that Jesse knows Gabriel is right. He’d be bound to whatever idiotic warden was running his cell block just to make sure he didn’t cause trouble, make sure he didn’t use his abilities to get himself out. He grits his teeth, looking up at Gabriel. He’s not _bad_ looking, but still. He throws a pointed look at the red-head before fixing his eyes back on Gabriel. “You or her?”

“You will be bound to Commander Reyes,” the woman says.

Of course.

But the blade is still in the woman’s hand, which means she’s going to be part of this. Jesse quirks an eyebrow at Gabriel. “Didn’t strike me as the type that liked having an audience, _Commander_.”

But instead of smugness, Jesse just sees confusion on Gabriel’s face. It takes him a moment to process, but the truth finally dawns on him - Gabriel has no idea what the binding process entails.

Jesse can’t help it. He laughs, the sound echoing loud and clear in the lab. Gabriel’s expression darkens, but it’s hard for Jesse to take him seriously, considering. Considering…

“You ever fuckin’ bound an incubus before?”

Gabriel shakes his head, a small aborted motion, but the woman _nods_ , and it’s just priceless. Jesse laughs again, earning himself a shake from Gabriel. 

“What’s so damn funny, kid?”

When Jesse doesn’t answer immediately, Gabriel shakes him again, harder. Raising a hand, Jesse shakes his head, still chuckling. “ _Goddamn_ ,” he says. “Ya might wanna think about what ya got yerself into, _jefe_.” 

Jesse stands up straight, rolling back his shoulders. He knows how he looks - desirable doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s young and pretty, and the jeans he’s wearing do great things for his ass. And it’s not like Gabriel doesn’t _want_ him. Jesse’s felt the first inklings of arousal since the interrogation room. 

“You don’t just bind an incubus with a couple’a words and some blood,” he says. “You’re gonna have’ta _fuck_ me, Commander.”

Gabriel glances at the woman, and his expression is some sort of mix between frustration and annoyance. But before he can speak, the redhead shrugs. “Ziegler was supposed to inform you of the particulars.”

If Jesse were the sort to bet, he’d bet “Ziegler” was the pretty blond from earlier. 

All in all, it’s a little impressive how quickly Gabriel composes himself. He turns to the redhead and takes the blade from her, and then he turns back to Jesse, so much steel in his expression that Jesse starts to wonder if the guy is going to get himself up out of pure determination. 

“Mutual orgasms,” the redhead says, before she leaves. “That’s what’s needed to complete the bond.”

Jesse ignores the fact that Gabriel looks relieved.

He saunters over, hands in his pockets, looking up at Gabriel from under his eyelashes. He’s not sure what angle to play, what role Gabriel wants him to fill, but he’s flexible. He has to be.

“How d’ya want me, _jefe_?”

Jesse won’t ever admit it, but he yelps in surprise when Gabriel reaches out and grabs his hand. A second later, the sharp sting of the blade is against his palm, and, “Christ, a warnin’ would’a been nice!”

Gabriel makes a sound, pressing the blade into his own hand before grabbing Jesse’s again and shoving their wounds together. Their blood mixes, and Jesse feels the first inklings of the bond, tugging him towards Gabriel.

He smirks. “Now for the fun part,” he says, but when he glances up, Gabriel almost looks like he’s going to be sick. And the bond is new, still forming and incomplete, but Jesse can already feel waves of emotion rolling off the other man. There’s arousal there, which is good, but it’s under a hell of a lot of guilt and panic and uncertainty. And, maybe, Jesse feels a little for the guy.

“Lemme take care’a ya, boss.”

Gabriel doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t push Jesse away either, so the incubus sinks to his knees in front of the commander. He looks up, smiling, knowing his makes a pretty picture like this, and relishes in the wave of want he feels from Gabriel. He’ll take hesitation over cruelty any day, and since Gabriel isn’t even making a move to touch him, Jesse figures he won’t have to worry about any unnecessary roughness.

His fingers go to Gabriel’s belt, deftly undoing the buckle. He pushes it aside and pops the button, and then tugs Gabriel’s pants and underwear down in one go. Above him, Gabriel hisses - the air in the lab isn’t exactly warm, and the guy’s only half-hard. That doesn’t stop Jesse from leaning in and taking Gabriel’s entire length into his mouth.

Thank god Gabriel was standing close to a wall, because the guy all but collapses back against it. His hands twitch at his side, aborted movements that even Jesse barely notices. But he _does_ notice, notices the salty taste of precome on his tongue, too. Reaching out, he takes one of the man’s hands and slides it into his own hair. It’s a long moment before Gabriel does anything other than just let his fingers rest there against the curve of Jesse’s head, but Jesse’s done this before. He bobs his head, slow and steady, keeping to a pace that feels good but isn’t going to get Gabriel off anytime soon. It’s just frustrating enough that Gabriel grips his hair, just a little, and Jesse moans.

He doesn’t need to feel Gabriel’s quaking thighs under his hands to know it feels good. Maybe it’s been a long time for the guy, or it’s just that Jesse is good with his mouth, or some combination of both, but it’s not long before Jesse feels Gabriel’s cock swell just a little more in his mouth. He slides forward the last inch and hold Gabriel’s hips steady while the the man cries out above him and comes all the way down Jesse’s throat.

Jesse stays there until he needs to breathe, pulling back carefully. Above him, Gabriel looks wrecked, eyes dark and glassy, chest rising and falling with every panting breath. He’s fucking gorgeous, Jesse thinks. He could have gotten a lot less lucky.

Gabriel looks like he’s having trouble just standing, so Jesse pops the button on his own pants and takes himself in hand. Maybe next time, he’ll feel Gabriel’s hand instead of his own. He thinks about it - it’ll be rough, calloused from all the shooting he’s done. He groans, and then feels a tug to his hair and realizes Gabriel is still holding it.

“Fuck, kid. Look at you.”

There’s a few things Jesse’s easy for, and one of those is the awed tone of voice Gabriel has right now, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. It’s a rush like nothing else, and Jesse just strokes himself faster. After the bond is formed, he’ll hear that voice from Gabriel all the time. And that’s the thought that pushes him over the edge, Gabriel’s hand in his hair tightening as he spills onto the floor in between them.

For a moment, there’s just the sound of the two of them breathing. And then, abruptly, Gabriel’s hand leaves his hair.

Jesse can feel fangs in his mouth when he looks up. And Gabriel winces, looks away, tucking himself back into his pants before stepping to the side. 

“Bunks are down the hall,” he says, and then he’s gone, and Jesse’s left on his knees with the taste of Gabriel’s release still in his mouth.

* * *

Jesse doesn’t exactly expect to make friends. Even if no formal announcement about what he is was made, word travels fast, and people don’t tend to gravitate towards his type. Not for conversation, anyway. So he’s surprised when, a few days after Gabriel binds them, two people join him during lunch in the mess.

One of them is the redhead from the lab. She’s wearing a jacket with her last name on it, and Jesse tries to make his mouth work around the syllables before sighing in defeat. “Somethin’ easier I can call ya, sugar?” he asks, gesturing at the jacket.

She glances down, looks at him, and raises one perfectly manicured eyebrow. Jesse half expects her to go back to eating her parfait, but after a moment, she gives the smallest of nods. “Moira,” she says. “Welcome to the squad.”

The man next to her snorts. At least, Jesse thinks he’s a man. There’s more metal than flesh to him, at least that Jesse can see, and enough exposed wiring to seem hazardous. But Jesse isn’t going to question it - the guy has been here longer than he has, so obviously something about his setup works. “And you?” he asks.

A pair of red eyes settle on him, and they’re just inhuman enough to make Jesse feel… unnerved. But the gaze only lasts a moment before the man is looking away again. “Genji,” he answers, and his voice is less metallic than Jesse expects.

“I take it we’re teammates, then.”

The grin Moira flashes him is predatory. Jesse returns it in kind.

They eat in a companionable silence, and although the food is good, it doesn’t do anything for the perpetual hunger in Jesse’s chest. It’s not bad, given that he just fed yesterday, but it’s still there. A second round doesn’t sound all that bad, so Jesse tips his hat to his teammates and gets up.

Finding Gabriel isn’t hard. He’s a man of habit, Genji tells him, and if he isn’t training, or sleeping, or on a job, he’s usually in the Strike Commander’s office, so that’s where Jesse goes. He raises his hand to knock on the door, but hesitates when he hears the tone of the conversation happening on the other side. 

“You’re the one who wanted him on the squad.”

That’s Morrison, Jesse knows, from the absurd number of recruitment videos he’s seen. But the voice still makes Jesse’s stomach sink - they’re talking about him.

”It’s a fucking monster, Morrison, pretending to be a kid. I’m not saying he’s not an asset, but how the hell am I supposed to trust him out there?”

Jesse stumbles back from the door like he’s been slapped, the hunger in his chest forgotten. The only reason Genji and Moira trust him is because they assume Gabriel does - and, obviously, Gabriel does not. It shouldn’t be as surprising as it is, but Jesse had thought the bond would help push things along. He already feels something for Gabriel, something a lot like trust, like...

He ends that train of thought forcefully. It doesn’t matter. If he can’t get what he needs from Gabriel, he’ll get it from someone else.

* * *

He can’t get it from anyone else.

He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten a fresh-faced recruit into a supply closet, only to find that, no matter what he tries, the air never charges with the energy he needs. It takes him way too long ( _three days_ ) to realize that it’s because Gabriel hasn’t given him permission to feed on anyone else. 

He thinks about asking for all of two seconds, crushes that idea when he thinks about Gabriel’s reaction.

But he’s _fine_. He doesn’t need to feed every day. Once a week will keep him healthy - eventually, Gabriel will keep up his end of the bond.

* * *

They train.

Jesse gets used to being dragged out of his bunk at all hours of the day (or night) to run laps or lift or, after a week passes and he’s still there, mission simulations. He surprises everyone with how good of a shot he is ( _”You think Deadlock would’a kept me around if I wasn’t useful?”_ ) and Gabriel even gets him a six-shooter to complete his kit. 

But even with training, with the hours they spend together learning how to have each other’s backs, Gabriel still doesn’t offer.

“McCree, you’re losing time on your laps.”

Gabriel’s voice is stern, disappointed, even though Jesse can see the clock and he knows he’s barely lost a second off his best lap time. But he’s breathing hard, bent over with his hands braced on his knees, showing more fatigue than he has since he started training.

“Just hungry, boss,” he says, breathy, flashing Gabriel a grin.

But the man just rolls his eyes. “Hit up the cafeteria later,” he says, and then points to the track. “Four more.”

And then he leaves, and Jesse watches him go with a slack jaw.

Apparently, Gabriel has no intention of feeding him, or giving him permission to feed on anyone else. Jesse swallows down the bile that rises in his throat, ignores the ache in his chest, and starts running. 

Maybe he just needs to prove himself.

* * *

Two weeks after he joins Blackwatch, Dr. Ziegler finds him doing pullups in the gym. His arms are shaking, and he can only do a handful of reps before he drops to the floor. When he looks up, the doctor’s eyes are soft, concerned. 

“How are you feeling, Jesse?”

Jesse flashes an easygoing grin, waving a hand. “Like perfection on a platter, doc.” Working out makes the ache in his chest go away, at least for a while, but it’s replaced with the sensation of sore muscles and overworked lungs. It’s not comfortable, but he’s fine.

Dr. Ziegler looks less than convinced, but she leaves him alone after that. 

Jesse wonders if he’d be hungry if he was bound to her, but even the thought feels traitorous.

* * *

Three weeks after he joins Blackwatch, Jesse gets sent out on his first mission.

They all get sent out - him, Gabriel, Genji, and Moira. It’s a simple mission, or it’s supposed to be. Get in, get some intel, and get out.

And then everything goes to shit.

Jesse and Gabriel end up pinned on a rooftop while enemy soldiers under them try to get off some lucky shots. They’re relatively safe, but they can’t move, and in order to get extracted, they have to be able to get to the rendezvous point. Moira is in the building underneath them, and Genji is out among the soldiers, cutting them down with blades and shuriken, both, and Jesse just feels really fucking useless.

A glint of metal across the way catches his eye, and time seems to slow down as he realizes the glint belongs to the barrel of a sniper rifle.

It’s a stupid decision. Jesse knows it is, even as he bends his knees to start the tactical roll that will throw him in Gabriel’s direction. But there’s just no time to do anything else. No time to yell, to try to get Gabriel to move, to do anything other than act on the instinct the bond has given him.

Jesse throws himself forward, and a split second later, the sniper pulls the trigger. 

For a moment, Jesse doesn’t feel anything, no burn, no pain, and he starts to panic, wondering if he wasn’t fast enough. And it almost happens in slow motion: he hits the tiles of the rooftop, knocking against Gabriel’s legs. Gabriel turns, says something, but Jesse can’t hear him over the ringing in his ears and _oh_ , there’s the pain.

It blossoms up his side like fire, sucking the breath out of his lungs. For a moment, his vision goes black around the edges, but then Gabriel appears in the pinprick of sight he has left and shouts in his face. _”The fuck are you doing?_

 _”Sniper down,”_ Jesse hears Genji say through his headset, and that, at least, is a comfort. For the moment, Gabriel is out of danger. 

“Moira!” Gabriel shouts, and then he’s crouching over Jesse, his dark form almost completely blocking out the sky. And then there’s painful pressure on his side and Jesse realizes, distantly, that Gabriel is applying pressure to the wound. He closes his eyes. The pain, the noise, _Gabriel_ , it’s all just too much. He just needs a minute to recover.

But the all-too familiar sensation of a wound knitting itself back together doesn’t come. And, belatedly, Jesse realizes that he hasn’t fed in weeks and he’s _weak_. He’s not going to heal. 

“Christ, kid. Stay with me.”

There’s a hand on his face and it’s nice. Comforting. Jesse leans into it, soaking up the touch. It’s innocent, doesn’t charge the air with anything he take can in, but it’s still more than he’s had in so long and it’s so, so nice. He tries to speak, but the sound gets stuck in his chest and that hurts, too. 

Jesse can feel his breaths getting shallower. The pain is lessening, too, and that’s nice, even though somewhere in his mind he knows it’s not a good sign. But he can’t be bothered to care. He did his job. He did good.

And then, suddenly, the pain is blinding again. Jesse’s eyes fly open just long enough to see Moira pushing one of her golden glowing orbs against his side. But then his vision goes mercifully black, and he’s not conscious to feel his head knock back against the roof.

* * *

Jesse wakes to a lot of pain.

There’s the old familiar kind of some new injury. That’s the first thing he feels, but along with it, he can feel his body repairing itself, albeit more slowly than it usually does. That’s being handled, though, so he ignores it.

There’s also the newly familiar kind of pain, the hunger that’s settled in his bones. But that has almost become a habit to ignore, so that’s what he does. 

He scrunches his nose and tries to stretch, and then he gets the unfamiliar pain of someone grabbing and squeezing his hand so hard the bones of his knuckles creak.

Jesse opens his eyes, and they take a moment to focus, but when they do it’s _Gabriel_ he sees. And, then, he notices that they’re in Angela’s medbay, and _then_ he remembers taking the bullet. He’s got no idea how long ago that was, but a glance at Gabriel’s face reveals a few days’ worth of stubble, and Christ, has the guy been at his bedside the whole time?

“You look like shit, _jefe_ ,” Jesse rasps, wincing at the sound of his voice. It sounds like gravel, feels like it, too. He licks his lips, trying to wet them, but apparently is body has given up on trying to make saliva in order to focus on more important things. He can’t blame it, exactly, given its limited resources, but he’d kind of hoped the IV in his arm had some sort of incubus-friendly concoction in it.

But before he can try to push himself up in order to track down something to drink, there’s a gentle hand under his head lifting him up while the rim of a cup is pressed up against his lips. The first sip of water hurts going down his throat, but every one after that is perfect. The cup is taken away all too soon, though, and in any other circumstance, Jesse would be embarrassed about the sound he makes.

“Easy, _conejito_. You’ll make yourself sick.”

Gabriel’s voice is gentle, but still rough. Jesse isn’t going to think about why. There’s no way in hell the commander of Blackwatch has been crying over _him_.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles. He tries to sit up, but pain explodes up his side and with a soft cry, he falls back against the sheets. His breaths are ragged, and _fuck_ , this is really taking too long. He’s running on empty, and it’s starting to show.

He glances up at Gabriel to make some comment about how he’s not as young as he used to be, something that would normally earn him an exasperated sigh, but the words die on his tongue. Gabriel looks _wrecked_. The worry lines on his face are all clearly defined, and the bags under his eyes are _dark_. He’s a mess. 

“Angie told me you’re starving.”

Jesse winces, looking away. Of course she did. And she probably did it with the tone of voice that would make a psychopath feel guilty, so god knows what Gabriel’s feeling. An ugly feeling curls in Jesse’s chest - he’s feeling _obligated_. And that’s why Gabriel’s here, holding his hand, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. Jesse is a duty he needs to fulfill.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, more forcefully this time. “And unless the doc became some sort of incubus expert overnight, I think my word goes a bit farther than hers on this subject.”

He’s not fine. His body is going to stop working, eventually. Maybe he’ll lose control before then - he has no doubt that Gabriel would put him down to ensure the safety of the rest of his team. The more he thinks about it, the more he’s sure that’s how it’s going to go down. His instincts will get too hard to ignore, and he’ll snap, and he’ll take a shotgun blast to the chest courtesy of the man he’s bound to and…

His train of thought cuts off abruptly because Gabriel’s lips are on his and _oh_.

It’s nothing. It’s a taste, barely a sip of what he needs, but he’s been without for so long that even just the tease of the idea of feeding is enough. He makes a needy sound, leaning up as much as he can without hurting himself. And Gabriel doesn’t pull away. No, instead, his hands slide into Jesse’s hair and he pulls him _closer_ , licks into his mouth like he owns it, and it’s all Jesse can do to just breathe.

The kiss ends too soon, and Jesse has to bite back a pathetic whine when Gabriel pulls away. It wasn’t enough, and now that he’s tasted it, he just wants _more_. He feels his fangs press against his lip, and that’s the last thing he needs. He knows what he looks like to humans without his glamour, remembers all too vividly what happened the last time Gabriel saw him without it.

_”It’s a fucking monster, Morrison, pretending to be a kid.”_

He screws his eyes shut, fighting for control, but then Gabriel makes a little concerned noise and they’re kissing again. And, this time, Jesse knows his glamour is down. He can feel Gabriel’s tongue against his fangs, feel his tail snaking out from under the bedsheets. But he doesn’t have enough spare energy to focus on putting it back up, and Gabriel… Gabriel isn’t pulling his hands away from Jesse’s grey skin.

They break again, and Jesse is panting and, he realizes a little distantly, very obviously hard under the thin hospital gown and the sheets. He _wants_. Gabriel shifts like he’s going to stand, like he’s going to _leave_ , and that’s all it takes for Jesse to whine and reach out, pawing at the other man’s belt. “Please,” he says, and fuck, his voice is still rough in all the wrong ways. He sounds sick, not sexy. “Please, Gabe. I’ll make it good for ya. I promise. I…”

Gabriel gently takes his hands and moves them back to the bed and Jesse tries to ignore the way his chest constricts with panic. He knows Gabriel doesn’t like him, but this is just _cruel_. To give him a taste, to tease him, and then leave? Jesse feels desperate tears well up in his eyes. 

But Gabriel doesn’t leave. Instead, he leans down, his hand coming back to Jesse’s face to gently brush an errant tear off his cheek. It’s so fucking _kind_ , caring, and Jesse doesn’t think he’s ever been so confused in his life. 

“I’m so sorry, _conejito_. Don’t worry, now. I’m going to take care of you.”

Gabriel’s voice is still so damn _soft_ , but Jesse lets it comfort him anyway. He lays back, fists clenching as he tries to calm himself down. The kisses will help. He’ll heal. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. He…

Cool air hits his legs as the blankets are pulled back, and Jesse barely has time to question that development before Gabriel’s hand is slipping under the hospital gown and wrapping around his cock. He gasps, arching his back, and the motion makes Gabriel’s hand move just enough, and then Jesse’s coming, hard.

Relief of all different kinds floods his system. The orgasm itself lights up his synapses, makes colors pop in front of his eyes. It sates some of his hunger, too, makes the feeling retreat into a small corner of his chest. And the pain from the wound all but disappears as his body snatches up the energy the orgasm provided and puts it towards repairing the hole in his side. 

As he starts coming down from the feeling, Jesse realizes two things. One, he’s shivering, still processing the intensity of what just happened. And, two, Gabriel is sitting next to his bed, wiping Jesse’s come off his hand.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jesse says, though with how breathy his voice is, it doesn’t really sound like the admonishment it’s supposed to be. And even though he was literally begging Gabriel for something just minutes ago, he hadn’t expected the guy to jerk him off. 

But Gabriel just shakes his head, making a small sound as he sets aside the towel he’s using. And then he fixes Jesse with a look, and there’s so much _emotion_ behind it that anything else Jesse was going to say dies on his tongue.

“You,” Gabriel starts, and then sighs, frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start with you, kid.”

And, oh. Jesse knows where this is going. Fuck knows how much money, how many resources they spent on him in the last few days. He knows Overwatch isn’t a charity - the cost-benefit analysis on him has to be way down in the negatives. This is Gabriel letting him go, breaking the bond, making sure he doesn’t _die_ before he gets off Overwatch’s property.

Jesse tries for a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he uses every bit of willpower he has to pull his glamour back up. It’ll be easier to find another meal if he’s decent to look at. “Couldn’t let’ya take a bullet,” he says with a shrug, feigning casualness. 

“You could have _died_ , Jesse.”

Jesse makes a sound that’s a little like a laugh. “Yeah, well. You could’a too. Better me’n you, _jefe_.”

Gabriel opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, but then closes it. And Jesse thinks, _yeah, we both know it’s true._ But then he looks at Jesse again, and there’s still the same mix of emotions in his eyes. Jesse can _feel_ them rolling off the guy. Anger, sadness, worry, guilt… it’s a lot. 

“The hell were you thinking, starving yourself like that?”

Jesse looks down at his lap, wincing at the sight of his own come on his stomach. Quickly, he flips the sheet over the mess. He can clean up later, after Gabriel leaves. “Not like I had a lot of options,” he says with a shrug. “Couldn’t find my own sources. And it’s not like ya kept it a secret what you thought’a me.” _Monster_. “Couldn’t ask’ya to fuck me just to keep me alive. ‘s never been how I worked. Never made someone want me, made ‘em want to do anything with me they didn’t want to begin with. Wasn’t gonna do that t’you, either.”

And as Jesse watches, Gabriel drops his head into his hands, and the emotion pouring off of him overwhelmingly is guilt, now. It’s almost suffocating, and Jesse does what instinct tell him to and sits up, ignoring the small twinge of pain in his side so he can reach out and pull Gabriel’s face up and shake his head at the sight of the fucking tears that Gabriel is crying for him. “No, Gabe, shh. Don’t. Look, ya didn’t know what the bond was gonna mean. Ya didn’t know what you were signing up for. ‘s not your fault. Don’t…”

“Jesse, shut up.”

Obediently, Jesse shuts up. He watches as Gabriel reaches up, covers the hands on his face with his own, turns his palm to press a stupidly delicate kiss to Jesse’s palm. And then he sighs, and Jesse thinks, absently, that he needs to get Gabriel to feel a few emotions other than guilt and sadness.

“The fact that you could only feed from me after I bound you wasn’t exactly… known. And that’s not an excuse,” Gabriel continues quickly, mistaking Jesse’s confused expression for disbelief. “I just… You’re right. I didn’t think a whole lot of you when you first joined up. But you _worked_. You trained, you got on with the rest of the team, and you didn’t cause trouble, and I just figured…” Gabriel shrugged. “You were getting what you needed somewhere else.”

Jesse can’t help it. He laughs, the sound raspy and hollow. “Wasn’t for lack’a tryin’,” he says, and the look he gets from Gabriel is almost… “You jealous, _jefe_?”

Color rises in Gabriel’s cheeks and he looks away, but there is no way in hell Jesse is letting that slide. He sits up, and the pain in his side worsens again, but it’s already better than it was. “You _are_. Gets ya worked up, don’t it?” He leans it, grin salacious as he drops his voice to a murmur. “Thinkin’ about me on my knees for someone else?”

Gabriel makes a sound that can only be described as a grunt, low and involuntary. It looks like he’s using every ounce of self-control he has not to push Jesse back against the bed, the way his fingers are twitching, and, honestly, Jesse wouldn’t mind if he did. 

“Angie’d kill me if I fucked you in her medbay.”

Jesse waves a hand. “What the good doctor don’t know won’t kill’er.” Reaching over, he tugs the IV out of his hand, ignoring the twinge of pain in his side as he moves to his hands and knees in front of Gabriel. Even trying his hardest, he knows he doesn’t look all that sexy - he’s still in the hospital gown, for fuck’s sake. But the way Gabriel is looking at him, Jesse thinks he could be wearing a burlap sack, and Gabriel would still be struggling not to rip it off him. “C’mon,” he says, reaching out to tug Gabriel forward by his belt. And, surprisingly, the man comes without any resistance, and a moment later, they’re kissing again with Gabriel kneeling on the bed in front of him.

Gabriel’s stubble is rough on his face, but his fingers are gentle in Jesse’s hair. His whole being is gentle - his mouth isn’t demanding, his hands aren’t exploring, his body isn’t pressing Jesse back onto the mattress. And to his credit, Jesse tries to be patient. Kissing is nice, and the air is charged with enough sexual energy that he can pull from it, but weeks of hunger have him wanting _more_.

He makes a sound into Gabriel’s mouth before bringing his hands up to Gabriel’s chest to push him back.

Gabriel’s back hits the bed hard enough to make it creak, but Jesse’s not paying attention to that. He’s too busy pulling at Gabriel’s belt, hissing when it takes more than a second to undo. And Gabriel… Gabriel is just watching him, eyes wide and dark, and eventually, Jesse manages to tug down the man’s pants and underwear in one go.

He remembers blowing Gabriel, and his mouth waters just a little at the memory, but that’s not what he needs right now. He lifts the gown up over his head, tossing it aside, and then they’re both naked. 

Gabriel’s eyes dart down to his side, and Jesse can’t help but follow his gaze down. The bullet hole is gone, but the flesh around where the wound used to be is still red and raw-looking. In another hour it’ll be back to normal, and it doesn’t even hurt anymore, but Jesse still lets Gabriel reach out to cover the spot with his hand. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

It’s a compliment. Jesse knows that. And he should respond by blushing, ducking his head, or something cute like that, but he doesn’t. Instead, he smiles a little wryly, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a face people like.”

But Gabriel shakes his head, frowning. “No,” he says, his hand sliding around to the spot on Jesse’s lower back, right where his tail is when his glamour is down. “ _You’re_ beautiful.”

This time, Jesse does blush. He considers letting his glamour drop, but the fangs and tail are kinky in a way he doesn’t want right now. Right now, he just wants Gabriel, wants to pull pleasure from him and have it pulled from himself. 

“Next time,” he murmurs, and then he’s crawling over Gabriel’s prone body to draw him into a searing kiss. 

This time, Jesse can slot his hips right into Gabriel’s and thrust forward so that their erections rub against each other, precome making the friction just on the right side of too rough. Gabriel moans into his mouth, and Jesse wants more of those little sounds, so he reaches down and wraps a hand around both of them, squeezing gently before he starts to stroke.

Pleasure jolts through the both of them. Jesse can feel it like an echo, reverberating through the bond, making every stroke feel like both his hand and someone else’s. It’s… intense, and it gets them both to the edge faster than jesse would have liked.

Reluctantly, he pulls his hand away, and the sound Gabriel makes is somewhere between and growl and a whine. 

“Not done with you yet,” Jesse says with a grin, and maybe he lets his fangs flash a little. Maybe he gets a thrill out of the way that Gabriel’s eyes widen, maybe he thinks about dragging the sharp points across the inside of the other man’s thighs, imagines, for a moment, how Gabriel would shudder underneath him. But only for a moment, because he actually has Gabriel underneath him, and the real thing is so much better than the fantasy.

He scoots forward so that he’s straddling Gabriel’s hips, rocking his hips so that Gabriel’s cock slides up the cleft of his ass, and Gabriel fucking _moans_ , his head faling back against the sheets. Jesse does it again, just to watch how Gabriel’s hands fist into the white fabric, how his mouth falls open as he pants. 

He’s shifting to put Gabriel’s cock exactly where he wants it when he feels a hand on his hip, stopping him. Glancing up, Jesse sees Gabriel’s eyes, concerned behind the arousal that’s so painfully evident. “Lube,” Gabriel says, and, _oh_. Jesse wonders if the guy knows _anything_ about incubi.

Jesse winks, and then takes Gabriel’s hand off his hip before guiding it between his legs. The guy’s fingers are _big_ , thicker than Jesse’s, and that’s the first thing Jesse notices when one carefully pushes into him.

Underneath him, Gabriel curses under his breath. “Are you…”

“Prepped and wet,” Jesse finishes, flashing another sharp-toothed smile. “Just another perk, sugar.”

Jesse doesn’t expect Gabriel’s finger to push further into him, _definitely_ doesn’t expect him to crook it just perfectly so that it brushes over Jesse’s sweet spot. It sends sharp pleasure sparking up Jesse’s spine, and his patience finally snaps.

He _snarls_ , grabbing both of Gabriel’s wrists and pinning them to the bed. “No more waiting,” he says, his voice rough, and then he’s twisting his hips and sliding onto Gabriel’s cock with a practiced, smooth motion.  
Jesse’s own cock bobs against his stomach, but he’s too preoccupied with how Gabriel feels inside him, how the ache in his chest is finally gone. It’s satisfying on so many levels, and more than anything, Jesse just wants the moment to drag on forever.

“ _Jessito_ ,” Gabriel moans, his hands flying to Jesse’s hips like he wants to hold him there and make him move at the same time. The result is the firm press of strong fingers, and Jesse is definitely on board for that.

He gives an experimental rock of his hips and stutters halfway through because he can feel the phantom sensation of being _inside_ someone almost as clearly as he can feel Gabriel seated deeply inside him. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, making the heat in Jesse’s stomach build that much more.

And then Gabriel grips his hips a little tighter and grits out, “Fucking _move_.”

So Jesse does. 

He lifts himself up, and then slams back down on Gabriel’s cock, pulling desperate moans from both of them. Distantly, Jesse wonders if Gabriel can feel both parts, if he feels the same stretch Jesse does, if he feels sharp pleasure shoot up his spine every time Gabriel’s dick brushes against that sweet spot inside him. 

Jesse comes with Gabriel’s name on his lips, painting the man’s chest underneath him. He seizes, shudders, and he wants to keep moving but not a second later, Gabriel’s hands force his hips down _hard_ , and then he’s groaning as Jesse feels him spurt inside him. 

Reaching out, Jesse braces his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders, chest heaving. He’s satisfied on a number of levels, and now that his hunger is sated, all he wants to do is sleep and let his body finish healing. He doesn’t even realize his eyes are closing until Gabriel says, “Not here, _conejito_.”

Jesse wrinkles his nose like the damn bunny Gabriel thinks he is, but he complies, lifting himself off Gabriel’s softening dick before throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing with minimal wobbles.

Gabriel follows, cleaning himself off with a sheet, and before Jesse can do anything he’s being pulled in close to Gabriel’s side, tucked in against strong muscle and skin that smells like _them_. “You good to leave?” Gabriel asks, and Jesse’s side is barely even red anymore, so he nods. 

The gown goes back on because walking down the halls naked will garner a lot of attention that neither of them want. Gabriel dresses, too, but Jesse’s back at his side as soon as he does, smiling a little loopy smile up at him as they walk out of the medbay.

“M’ bunks are thatta way,” Jesse says, still leaning against Gabriel’s side as he points to the opposite end of the hallway.

Gabriel makes a soft sound of acknowledgement. “And my room is this way,” he says, his arm tightening around Jesse’s waist.

He doesn’t turn back towards the bunks, and Jesse doesn’t bother trying to hide his smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Take Me to Church" by Hozier
> 
> I was like “let’s write incubus!Jesse” and then my brain was like “Yes. You will write 20 pages of incubus!Jesse instead of your capstone paper” which, coincidentally, is supposed to be 20 pages long.  
> One day I’ll go back to writing things other than Overwatch… for now, I’ve got a Jack/Gabriel stripper AU and a Genji/Jesse/Hanzo Blackwatch era in the works.  
> But if ya’ll have a song/pairing you want to prompt me with, OW or otherwise, stick it in the comments!


End file.
